


Everything Will Be Alright

by Draycarla



Series: Galra Week/ween 2020 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Courting Rituals, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Kolivan Has Issues, Mental Health Issues, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, Other, Past Torture, they are both awful at navigating their feelings, with some suicidal intentions early on because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: After Krolia and Kolivan separate from the group after Macidus, they find themselves stranded on a planet together. Old repressed feelings start to come to a head, but their relationship has always been a difficult one to navigate, and in the middle of a war and rebuilding the Blade of Marmora, some things need to wait. Life and feelings are complex, but things will work out, one way or another.They always do.
Relationships: Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Allura/Lance (Voltron), Ezor/Zethrid (Voltron), Keith & Kolivan (Voltron), Keith & Krolia (Voltron), Keith's Father/Krolia (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Kolivan & Krolia (Voltron), Kolivan & Shiro (Voltron), Kolivan/Krolia (Voltron), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Galra Week/ween 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016622
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Everything Will Be Alright

**Author's Note:**

> So, Day 1 was Krolivan! I chose the Galra A and B were stranded somewhere, but it HAS PROGRESSED a lot more from that.  
> I still have no idea what the fuck to call this fic.
> 
> This is why I've been so quiet on the update front lately, actually. 
> 
> This is a really sweet and soft slowburn, and I really hope that you guys enjoy it. It's one of my fave all-time ships.
> 
> Other ships mentioned are background only and won't be the main focus. Please enjoy!

“Drink, please.” Krolia mutters as she helps Kolivan with the small flask. He's still recovering from what torture that monster put him through. She knows the Driud's name, but she won't let herself think of him – he didn't deserve to be remembered. After a few ticks, Kolivan pushes the flask back towards her. His eyes are still unnaturally dim, and it's not helped by their situation either, if not a direct result of it.

“You must drink too, Krolia.” It hurts to hear him speak like this. There's a rasp to his voice despite the water.

“I'm fine.” She smiles, but Krolia's certain Kolivan can tell she's lying. He sighs, head limply falling to the side and closes his eyes. There's something wrong if he's not pointing it out. Krolia exhales sharply herself. There shouldn't be lies and secrets between them – not now when she has to take charge of the situation. “I just want to make sure you heal correctly,” Krolia unscrews the flask and takes a sip, “and we must be cautious with our rations. You are my priority.”

“Leave me here.” Kolivan doesn't look at her as he speaks. “Get out yourself. I am,” he coughs and his body jerks as he does, “nothing but a dead weight.”

“If you say to me again that I should lead the Blades-”

“-You can start anew-”

“then I am going to say the same thing I did last time: no.” Krolia places the flask into Kolivan's lap, and pulls the meagre blankets around him. “I will be back soon with provisions.” Krolia pulls the blade from her belt, and watches as it transforms within her hand. It has been such a long time since the blade has been within her possession, but once she and Keith are back together again, she will return it to her son.

Kolivan watches Krolia's back retreat into the cave network they've had to hide in since the ship got shot down. They'd been chased, Kolivan barely making it here in one piece, by some crazed Galrans in armour Kolivan didn't recognise. Krolia had done some recon missions as well as provision-runs to a base nearby. An old commander of the Empire lived here, and had declared themselves a warlord. Before Macidus, Kolivan was aware of the Empire fracturing, but never did he believe to this extent.

Still.

Kolivan was so useless in this state; even he would leave himself behind if this was a mission. He found little reason to justify living right now, despite how grateful he was initially to Keith. The young Blade had a good heart despite his reckless nature at times, and Kolivan could see him going great places in due course. Kolivan wondered, as he shifts the blankets about, whether his time had come and gone. He's ten thousand deca-phoebs old, give or take ten or fifty deca-phoebs, and very past the point of his natural lifespan. Like Zarkon, Lotor, Ulaz, and Thace; he had cheated death through quintessence, and perhaps now it was time that older Galra like him passed. Krolia and Keith knew his teachings, and together they could rebuild the Blade of Marmora. Or, and Kolivan coughs out a laugh at how rancorous he feels; like the Empire and Druids, that too could finally die a much needed death. It was all obsolete at this point.

Yet as Kolivan sits pitifully in this dank cave that reminds him of where he'd been kept for three deca-phoebs, he knows he can't kill himself. He can't do it, no matter how much he wants to, because Krolia would not allow it. While Krolia is not his keeper, Kolivan finds his thoughts around her complicated; he feels he owes her his survival, but does not want to disappoint her because of his feelings. Kolivan peers at the flask in his lap. It has been left here for ease of access and as a reminder to drink, to remain alive. He really should drink something, but it's not for him, it is for Krolia. She deserves to see him at his best, especially since more than twenty deca-phoebs has passed since they were last together.

-

Kolivan hisses as Krolia re-dresses his wounds.

“My apologies.” Krolia mutters as she knots the bandages tight. “I'll try and be quick and efficient.” Kolivan grunts a reply in return as he stares at the wall. It smells of damp and something plant-like, but he can't put his finger on the smell for certain. Kolivan feels Krolia's hand against his shoulder as her other works the tie on the bandage. He cannot help but feel naked like this in front of her. While yes there are scars from past battles below his fur, Kolivan is all too aware of the new ones across his back and the rest of his body. He knows the fur is patchy, because the cold air bites at the skin. It bites like the blades of his fallen brothers and sisters, when they were driven in again and again into his flesh. For the first time in his life; Kolivan feels self-conscious. He thinks it is because of the torture, and how his body is still weakened, but he also knows that isn't the full reason. It is because it is Krolia nursing and protecting him.

Every time Krolia changes the bandages, a little something inside her dies at the mere thought of what Kolivan had gone through. While she knew it was the best course to split off from the group, because Kolivan deserved his privacy and time to heal, Krolia found herself wondering whether him and Shiro could have used each other as support. Keith, of course, would be willing to help Kolivan, but it was the others who, so much as they would mean well, would crowd the proud man sat in front of her. The fact that he still trusted her after so long was humbling, especially after the last time they saw each other. Krolia pauses her fingers as she remembers. Gone for a deca-phoeb with no check-ins was bad enough, but Kolivan's response to her copulating with Tex was one she had never foreseen. What he said hurt Krolia deeply. They had argued, shouted, angrily spent time apart, until he gave her a mission to oversee Ranveig, and without a word, Krolia had left. Keith had told her of Kolivan's cold reception, and their subsequent missions together, but Kolivan had never left him behind as the mission dictated. Kolivan always stayed, and watched over Keith even if it was from afar.

“Gathering supplies may be difficult over the next few quintants. There's a lot of activity on the base at present.” Krolia says as she strips the material away. “What I have will have to last us, but I have found a water source nearby.”

“You know that it could make you sick.” Kolivan tilts his head round to look at her in the eyes, but Krolia busies herself so she doesn't have to look.

“You need to have the filtered water, and I am more than capable of creating a filtration system that will work in the short-term. If I have to, I will drink my own-”

“I get the point.” The muscles in Kolivan's shoulders tense, before they release with a long sigh. “You should not be looking after me like this.”

“We've had this discussion already. I'm not leaving you behind. It's not like you left Keith behind when you could have. Besides,” Krolia quickly winds the bandages around Kolivan's broad form, “we need you.”

“You do not need me for anything-”

“We need you, Kolivan. We were missing for three deca-phoebs and I-” Krolia stops what she's doing because she can't finish what she's about to say. The overwhelming guilt won't allow her. Kolivan is more then just his role, her superior officer, her brother-in-arms; he is knowledgeable and a man with a good heart. He has shouldered all the loss, and while loss was subjective, few had lost to his extent. “You need to rest.” Krolia finally says. Again, Kolivan doesn't press further, and this worries Krolia. She's uneasy around this shell of a man she once knew, and was once close to. There was a time when Krolia was taken with him, when they were at their closest, but in time Kolivan became distant, and Krolia assumed it was simply the way he was.

When Krolia finishes reapplying the bandages, Kolivan watches her from the corner of his eye as she bundles them together. There is dried blood from new and re-opened torture wounds thanks to the crash. Realistically, Kolivan needs medical attention or quintessence, but neither are easy to obtain. Kolivan lethargically pulls up his body suit and reties the wrap. He does not like being so bare.

“I wish Ulaz had not been so reckless.” Kolivan starts. “He sacrificed himself. To save the Paladins. Yet now, I miss his questionable humour and medical skills.”

“Keith told me what happened. He said you were quite hard speaking about Ulaz, and this angered Shiro.” He feels Krolia's light touch around his collar. “Still. I am sorting the creases.”

“Ulaz, as you know, had a reputation of breaking from his missions.” Kolivan pauses and swallows down the lump in his throat. “Like yourself.” He hears the sharp intake of breath behind him and those fingers still, until Krolia exhales once more. It is easier to keep up past appearances and wear that well-worn persona, because this is not the time to release deca-phoebs of repressed feelings after what he had been through. She would surely disregard it as muddled feelings from the torture, but she had a family, and Kolivan was not a part of that.

“I needed to survive, and I could not help falling in love with Tex. He took me from the wreckage, he asked for nothing. Tex was a good man to me.” Krolia's hands rest upon his shoulders. “I saw how you treated Keith upon his arrival. In the Quantum Abyss. I could hear it in your voice.” Kolivan once again feels the guilt, but shame now wells up through his body. Krolia is right to speak as she does, because Kolivan was bitter. He wrinkles his nose, because the reason is not what he thinks Krolia thinks it is. “Already angered by Ulaz helping them, both his and my 'mistakes' arrive. One with my blade. You wanted to see what he was worth. That trial shouldn't have been what it was.” Krolia's hands move from his shoulders. “Yet he proved himself to you, and I think, in time, Keith grew on you.” Krolia, like she had always been, exuded an air of painful directness and bluntness when she spoke, but she wasn't entirely correct in her assessment. Kolivan wasn't sure if he could ever admit to her his petty jealousy, but all of those thoughts and feelings he once held seemed so distant and irrelevant now. “You can be silent all you please, but you kept your eye on him. Like he was your own. It was you who returned him to me, and I,” Kolivan hears Krolia shift and shuffle, “think that after all the loss the Blade of Marmora has sustained, returning my son to me, was the kindest thing you have done. For many deca-phoebs, I was angry, but now I think I can say I forgive you. Either for him, or for me, you have no idea how grateful I am.” Kolivan is still, because he does not know how to respond. Instead, he clenches his jaw tightly and nods his head. He wants to say it was never around the fact that she broke mission, but because he was worried for her – and more of course. Back then it was all about maintaining appearances; he had to be strong for those who stood with the Blade, to guard their secrets. He was responsible for _all_ of them. Yet now, only three members remained in the universe, and what good was that or anything he'd tried to do in the past?

“We must conserve energy.” Kolivan shifts around with a restrained grunt of pain. Krolia's eyes drift over his body, and while she feels pity, Krolia channels those feelings into a will to protect him. Kolivan did not deserve her pity, because it was an insult to what he'd endured. “I must heal, I must come with you.”

“While I agree, your wounds will not heal properly if you force yourself. You've done enough, Kolivan, let me handle things in your stead.” Kolivan came from the era where Galra pride and stoicism was at its peak. It was something many Galra his age shared, from Krolia's experience. She supposed, as she took the offered blanket, it was a time when her people went through great loss, and then Zarkon re-emerged a changed man. It was a time when people blindly followed his orders, and only after, did they realise the magnitude of their actions. Kolivan was one of those Galra, and carried a burden Krolia couldn't fully understand. Her only reference point was leaving behind what she cared for the most; her human lover and son. That they did share; leaving a life behind for the greater good. Krolia presses her shoulder against Kolivan's, earning a softer grunt this time. She wants to comfort him, make him feel less alone. “We should also conserve warmth. Wake me if you require anything.”

“I am not unable to walk.” There's a bit of life in his words, and Krolia thinks it's almost playful.

“You truly must be sick if you're speaking to me like this. The Kolivan I know is a strict, stern man.” Her eyes drift half-closed to a snort and cough, but he quickly brings himself under control.

“Perhaps Macidus has broken me enough to let it come through?” At this Krolia snaps her head up and glares at him. There's a lop-sided grin on his lips, but Kolivan looks tired. “I have not said it yet, but Keith is almost completely in your image, and that look confirms it.”

“Well he is my son.”

“He truly is.” Kolivan tilts his head back and lets out a yawn. “I do not recall ever being this tired.”

“It must be catching up with you.” Krolia will admit, she can't get comfortable sat up like this, and settles down on the ground. “Lay with me.” Kolivan cracks open an eye, but closes it again with a sigh.

“I think it is best I sleep like this.”

-

The roof of the cave trembles again for the fourth quintant in a row. Their supplies are almost gone, and spending almost every waking and sleeping tick with Krolia is hard. Kolivan is trying not to let himself get re-attached, but by Marmora himself, it is difficult, especially when she fusses over him after nightmares. He wakes to Krolia there, with her face marred with concern for him, and for a tick Kolivan selfishly wants it to be genuine love as opposed to concern from a friend or colleague. Kolivan then feels even more ridiculous, because this is _not_ what should be on his mind. The situation demands that they be alert and ready to move at any given moment, that they must defend themselves if they are cornered. Krolia has two blasters she's stolen within grabbing distance, and they sit most quintants on watch. Even she looks tired now, and yet, Kolivan thinks of things that he shouldn't. Kolivan stretches his legs out, feeling the burn from lack of use, and dusts the rock and dirt from her deep purple hair. Krolia's brows pinch together, and Kolivan holds his breath, until she relaxes once more. He retracts his hand, and returns to massaging the muscles in his legs. His body is weaker. He has lost much of the muscle mass he used to carry from wastage, or when his body would consume itself during starvation. Kolivan remembers distinctly when Macidus tried to feed him the remains of one of his brothers, that Macidus had slowly tortured to death in front of him for over a movement. For a tick he was back there, wishing for death, wishing that Macidus would _end this_.

Like then, Kolivan could only look on and watch as his comrades were lured through his own sword and signal to their deaths, and now was just the same. It was only a matter of time until they were found, because they were known. In this state, Kolivan was no assistance, and he could not let Krolia die on his watch. She had Keith and Tex to return to. This was Kolivan's new mission: return Krolia to her family alive. After that, it did not matter about him, but knowing that he could reunite the pair again was enough to keep him going, at least for now. The blaster at least remained a suitable option if he struggled after he left her. It would be easy to drop off the grid; he had ten thousand deca-phoebs' experience of being nothing but a ghost.

-

Their supplies are gone by the sixth quintant, and the quintant before, the rattling had stopped. Kolivan demanded that he go out with Krolia on her next run. They argued about his condition, but in typical Galran fashion, neither would yield through stubbornness. Krolia left, and Kolivan followed her with the blaster in tow. He needed to make his own assessments of the surface, and they needed to at minimum find a new ship. As the pair left the mouth of the cave, both shielding their eyes from the light, Krolia sucks in a breath at the surroundings. Huge craters litter the world around them, and how they'd not been stuck within the cave or crushed, Kolivan had no idea. Krolia turns her head in the direction of what Kolivan presumes was the base, and he follows her gaze. It partially stands, but the place is still smoking. It is the only logical location for a ship, although with some of the battle cruisers that litter the landscape, they could have one operational, and supplies. However there was the chance that they would find resistance and enemies.

“We must play this safe.”

“We need to get out of here, Kolivan.” Krolia replies coldly. “I won't let us die on this rock.”

“You are not at full strength-”

“And neither are you, or I bet them!” She bares her fangs at him as she points to the landscape, but instead of being intimated or angered by her outburst, Kolivan admires the way her nose crinkles, and the passion and drive that flare in her eyes.

“You still have it.” Kolivan says, before taking the lead. His ears twitch at her confused stutters, before with a sharp sigh, he hears her footsteps behind him. They catch up quickly.

“Have what? What on Daibazaal are you talking about?” Krolia is trying to come across as level-headed, but her tone betrays her. Kolivan doesn't stop the snort of laughter, which leaves Krolia even more confused. Perhaps, as he surveys the area again, he should just tell her? The Blade of Marmora was no longer secret, and she had seen the cracks in his armour over the past two movements since they left that hell, that Kolivan had little left to lose in terms of his pride or ego. What did secrecy buy him but roughly ten thousand deca-phoebs of repression?

“You still have the same passion and fire to defend those as you did when we first met.” Kolivan looks back at Krolia, and she stops in her tracks. “Do you remember?” Krolia's pupils flick to the side as she tries to recall their first meeting. She does remember that Kolivan was incredibly handsome back then – he still was – but she also remembers yelling at him, because at the time, she thought Kolivan was challenging her negative views on the Empire.

“You looked me dead in the eyes, and told me that I had it.” Krolia blinks to Kolivan, who offers a curt nod and one of those lop-sided smiles of his. “I didn't understand what you meant.”

“Like now.” Kolivan continues walking despite the obvious stiffness in his movements. “That passionate look in your eyes, the way your nose crinkles; these are endearing qualities unique to you. It is when you speak of protecting others with conviction it shines through, and when I know you mean it most.” Krolia wasn't certain where this was going. Even for Kolivan, it was strange that he paid compliments, let alone anything related to physical qualities. While Krolia had learned from Tex this was healthy to discuss, Krolia was uncertain whether Kolivan's change in behaviour was due to the torture or a complete mental breakdown she must have missed, because his behaviour had been strange, yes, but this was different, even for him.

“Kolivan, is everything alright? You seem to be,” Krolia pauses as she comes up beside him, “off.”

“I have been 'off' since you found me,” Kolivan states so matter-of-fact that Krolia can almost believe she imagined his smile, “but I think now, I have found my motivation. I must thank you, for taking care of me when you did not have to. I have,” Kolivan stills, and pulls Krolia behind a piece of scarred metal that looks like it came from a nearby ship, “not been the best leader in the past, and have made errors. I will not allow you to be my last error.” Kolivan is tense and his ears are strained. He's listening, until he guides Krolia around with him, signalling to raise their blasters. “By that, I mean I will not see you perish. I will protect you like I could not do for the others.” They remain still and silent as Krolia digests his words.

“I do not need protecting, and you were tied up, incapacitated. You shouldn't blame yourself.” Krolia finally whispers.

“While I would agree with the sentiment in the past, it is not because I see you as weak. You have a family to return to; a mate that will be happy to see you back at his side. I will have no hand in keeping you apart.” Kolivan whispers just as quietly, his ears still strained. “There are two at minimum. We will have to be precise in our execution.” Krolia again is confused by Kolivan's meaning. She no longer has a mate; she had learned that through Keith and the Abyss.

“I understand regarding the marks, but Kolivan, you...my mate-”

“I was not angry at you or Ulaz for breaking mission like you think,” Kolivan's whispers are hurried, frantic even, “I was scared – worried – of your fates. That you could have died, and that was on me, for poor leadership. Unlike Ulaz, however,” Kolivan looks her square in the eyes, “I was angry at you, because of my own selfish feelings. I was tough with Keith, because he reminds me of you, but because I...” Kolivan trails off, and stalks with his blaster primed and ready. Krolia can hear the distant voices now. This conversation is not the best-timed, and she was failing to understand Kolivan's rationale. Selfish feelings? These seemed so alien when regarding Kolivan. What on Daibazaal could justify why he felt that? She'd never known him to have a racist streak in his blood, considering the closeness he and Antok shared. Krolia sidles up beside Kolivan, their bodies inches apart.

“Are we to shoot from this range and wait to see if there are reinforcements?” She asks, and Kolivan nods his head once. A dobosh passes in absolute silence between them, until Kolivan issues the signal.

The pair burst out from behind their metal barrier and find their targets. Their joint execution is automatic, precise, and fatal. The pair duck back around the metal, breaths held tight within their chests as they listen for signs of anything and anyone else. Kolivan makes them wait approximately ten dobosh's in silence until he gives the signal the coast is clear. Krolia would've given it less.

“I need you to explain what you mean,” she grabs Kolivan's wrist before they leave their cover, “why were you tough on Keith? What possible reason could you have?” Kolivan curls his free hand around her wrist, expression losing that hardness it always carried.

“I was tough on Keith because I was jealous-”

“Of _what_?”

“That you had found love. That I had let the chance slip away. That I was too proud, too caught up in the mission and terrified of making an error, that I was hard on you. I selfishly thought of you as a prize when you are not, because to me, _you_ are what I wanted in a mate. Keith was a reminder of what I had missed, and in my pettiness and anger, I was hard on him. Yet, I could not justify my actions, I could never let the mission come above protecting your son. I chose him to extract you, because of the guilt I felt. For the past...three deca-phoebs, I have had to watch our brothers and sister perish, and I have had time to dwell on my errors and missed chances, because their lives have been taken. Macidus learned and used my weaknesses against me. So this is why, as a means to make peace with myself, I must protect you, and I must see you back to your family no matter the cost. I want you to live a life that the Blade pulled you away from; I want you to rebuild your relationship with Keith and make up for the lost time with your mate.” Kolivan goes to pull himself from her grasp, but she holds tighter.

“Are you saying what I think you are?” Krolia's voice has lost that assertive edge, yet she still demands an answer from him. Kolivan knows he cannot hide from her any longer. After so long, he could finally allow himself this admission.

“Yes. I was your superior officer, and did not wish to be seen as preying upon you. Yet I could not, for what if someone captured you or I? My mind was haunted by thoughts of you being tortured, or fear that I would cave to see you free of it. Our mission being what it was, there were so many lives to protect; I felt it would have implied I valued yours more so, that I would become distracted, that-”

“You're rambling, Kolivan.” Krolia sounds calmer then she looks.

“I want you to be happy and have a life with your family. You deserve that. My mission, I decided, will be to see you off this planet.” Kolivan cast his gaze across their surroundings, ears pricking, he can hear something, but does not know what. “We must move. I fear we are a target if we remain too much longer.” He tugs again, but she does not release him from her grasp.

“The way you speak implies that you don't plan on coming with me. Is this you trying to atone?” The edge creeps back, and Kolivan tugs again. Krolia drops the blaster with a thud to the ground, and pushes him back against the metal with all the force she can muster. “Is that all you have to say? Nothing?” Her eyes flash and face morphs into something hurt. “You still want to die? You still think that will bring them back?”

“Nothing will bring them back!” Kolivan retorts. “Krolia, we need to _move_.”

“I'm not moving until you realise you can't die on me! I need you, Kolivan! I won't let you throw your life away!”

“Y-You have your mate-”

“He's _dead_!” Kolivan can see tears threaten her eyes. He mouths the word. How is her mate dead?

“In the Quantum Abyss I found out. When Keith was ten deca-phoebs old. Tex died saving some humans from a fire. While he died a hero, he left our boy, and while I know he did not mean for it to happen, our son was alone. If I had stayed, or brought them with me, neither would have suffered like they did. Tex would be alive, and Keith would know he was loved. Leaving him behind was the hardest thing in my life I have done, but I'll never leave any one behind again. Not you – not after your proved you wouldn't leave Keith behind either.”

“But, I-” Kolivan flinches as Krolia's pupils become slits.

“But nothing! You helped Keith when he needed it most, you took him on as if he was your own. If I had not seen how you were in the Abyss, my opinion would be different to what it is now. Yet, I cannot be angry at you. It kills me, to see you like this. It kills me to know that you would give your life for me to atone for things out of your control, and yet, I feel that somehow, you are the only one who can understand my guilt. That I have failed as a parent, a mother. That I failed those that relied on me. Keith has a life that he chooses to invite me into, and I am grateful to him, because I feel I don't deserve that.” Krolia's grip subsides as she steps away. “Tex is gone. I have had two deca-phoebs to mourn his loss. With you, I put feelings I long felt to rest, because I thought you considered me just another Blade-”

Krolia's eyes widen as something hits her in the arm. She moves, as if in slow motion, free hand grabbing at her shoulder. The noise echoes in Kolivan's ears, but he's acting on instinct. Life speeds up as he fires his blaster through the fractured tree line a few times. He hears noise. A scream. Kolivan uses the moment to scoop Krolia up, and over his shoulder, and he runs, swiping up her blaster. Kolivan runs on aching feet and legs ready to give out under him at any tick. He can hear voices. He needs cover, he needs to make sure Krolia is okay. He can't let the wound get infected, let her get sick. Adrenaline fuels his whole body, and even if he's panting and wheezing, Kolivan doesn't care.

The mission is priority.

Krolia isn't dying, but she's not going to be a great deal of help in this state. As Kolivan sets her down behind some rocks, she tries to lift the her discarded blaster he drops. He looks terrible; his face is drawn and lips are cracked. She has to protect him.

“Stay there.” Kolivan orders as he lifts the blaster, ears strained once more. In a fluid motion he twists and fires between the rocks. Krolia can hear someone scream.

“H-How many?”

“I do not know. I cannot make a read on the numbers.”

“There's only two of us.” Krolia drags herself over towards Kolivan, who gives her a dissatisfied glare.

“You must _rest_.”

“So should you, but we both can't rest or we'll die here.”

“I will not see you die. For the mission, you are _going home_.” Krolia coughs a laugh as she pushes herself up, clutching the blaster like a lifeline. “This is where Keith gets it from.”

“Well,” Krolia takes in a sharp breath, before firing out into the treeline, “he is my son.” They stare at each other, for what feels like dobosh's despite it being ticks. Kolivan does not want to die before she does, but does not want to see her die before him.

“If the fight is one we cannot win, will you?”

“Only if you do.”

“Together?” Kolivan and Krolia ease their blades out, and let them become their true forms.

“Together.” Krolia confirms with a bittersweet smile.

-

Krolia has been asleep for two quintants in the belly of the downed cruiser. Her condition, so far as Kolivan can understand, is stable. He's managed to find some quintessence after the shoot-out was over, and gave her the largest dosage. He looks over to her form, swaddled in as many blankets as he could find, yet her arm peeps out, bandaged tightly. There are some supplies, and a broken sustenance machine that has sustained the pair. This ship has no functional escape pods, but from the silence outside, Kolivan suspects the pockets of resistance have perished or escaped already. He wonders what their chances of escape are at present. While Kolivan can apply medical care, he still worries if what he's done is correct. She shouldn't be sleeping for this long. He moves and settles at her side, gently pulling the blanket back over her arm. He wishes to sweep the purple hair from her face, and Kolivan thinks for a tick he just should. No. That seems too affectionate. They need to come down from the situation two quintants' ago still, when both were ready to speak about this with certainty.

Kolivan had spent the time reassessing his desire to die. There was guilt at changing paths because her old mate was dead, and he found himself highly uncomfortable at the thought of pursuing Krolia. Her words lingered in his mind like old memories. She wanted him around. Kolivan also wanted to be around Krolia more frequently. He runs a hand over the nubs of his crest; he truly has no idea how to go about this business of navigating feelings and desires. Kolivan is still unsure whether he should pursue these feelings. He did not wish Krolia to see him as too needy or requiring mothering. It was also strange, to become attached to someone after torture. Or at least, that was what Kolivan thought.

-

It took four quintants until the pair had got a ship operational. It had required some parts replacement, but now they were away from that planet, heading for a base they both prayed to Marmora existed. Like the cave, they would shift-swap the watches, stealing precious vargas of sleep between each shift. Talking was at a minimum as both processed the planet and those words spoken between them. Even as Krolia braided Kolivan's long hair once again, few words passed between their lips. Yet, they could survive in the silence. Kolivan found her light touch soothing. It was something he had never experienced much, and he was finding it was something he craved.

“It's a shame we've had no room to bathe.” Krolia says as she finishes the braid, and drapes it around Kolivan's neck. “I believe it would be easier.” Kolivan can concede neither of them smell particularly pleasant.

“If we can power up the base, then at least we can shower.”

“The last time I bathed was on a planet we stopped at before we found you.” Krolia says. “I miss the feeling of clean fur, I miss grooming.” Kolivan cannot help the small, bitter laugh that escapes his lips.

“I do not recall the last time I bathed, and it has been longer since I have groomed myself. My fur must be a state.” He smooths the braid carefully, she has done a superb job.

“I know that it is a personal matter, but if you,” Krolia pauses, and Kolivan waits patiently, “would like assistance, I will help you reach the difficult places. If you feel at ease with me that is.” Kolivan considers her offer.

“I have allowed you to see me at my worst. While typically I would prefer to do so myself, I trust you.” He trusts her not purely based upon his affectionate feelings, but because of their fight together. Krolia offered covering fire when he went in, cutting down their enemies when their blasters were no longer of use. They had made their pact, to stick together. He wonders, as she settles in the seat at his side, whether she has more affections for him then she lets on. Kolivan wants to believe she does, but knows it could be wishful thinking. “Are you going to start early?”

“I believe so. Go, take the bed and rest properly. You should not keep sleeping like you do; it's bad for your back.” The skin around her eyes crinkle as her lips move upwards, and in the pale light, Kolivan finds her softness radiant. He quickly leaves her, before he relents to the desire to capture her sharp jaw and taste her lips.

* * *

Krolia carefully combs through the tangles and knots in Kolivans fur. His shoulders are tense, but his wounds look much better now after the quintessence. He has such a unique fur texture and markings. The red patches are such a rarity among Galra, that at first, she thought Kolivan three-quarters Galra as opposed to full. He explained to her that his family had a rare genetic marker that mutated the fur from purple to red, but conceded he could barely remember much about it. Krolia confessed she had little knowledge of her family, but assumed she is quite plain in terms of genetic markers. Kolivan laughs again, and for once it is not bitter.

“Your markings are quite striking. Did you know magenta is a rarity?”

“I did not,” Krolia replies as she teases a nasty knot out with her claws, “although I am surprised Keith did not inherit my hair colour.”

“Under certain light conditions, it shines the same purple as your own.” Kolivan says without missing a beat. He seems to realise what he's said. “It was just an observation, not that I stare at him strangely.” Krolia laughs as she finally defeats the knot.

“You have taken this well, letting me groom you.”

“Your fingers have a light touch, and you are delicate in your approach.” Kolivan shifts a little awkwardly. “With such long fur, it can be quite sensitive.”

“I imagine so.” Krolia places her hand against Kolivan's shoulder. The muscle is stiff. She lets go, and it de-tenses. “Why do you tense?” Kolivan is silent for a few ticks, but his ears flick.

“I am not used to bodily contact in general. Couple that with,” he pauses again, head tilting away, “what I said to you. I did mean it, not in some delirious state.”

There is a lot to unpack again. Krolia shifts and shuffles next to Kolivan, offering him the comb.

“I will admit,” she says, “I had thought initially you felt as you did due to what you have been through.”

“I have been aware of that perception; I anticipated this reaction. I believe I need more time. Yet you,” his brows pinch together, “do not necessary reject it. I do not fully understand the signals, and have tried not to read much in to them, yet I struggle.” Krolia scrutinises the floor. He is right, but her intentions were not based in pure affections or to endear herself to Kolivan. She had laid her feelings to rest and had rarely considered them since, but it would be a lie to say she had strong feelings for Kolivan presently.

“I'm sorry if you felt my actions leading. While I have put your needs above my own, it was because of what happened to you. I know you proud, and that being around the others would be detrimental to your recovery. The Paladins and Alteans can be quite energetic, and their lives at present full of uncertainty as to what they'll face. I think that the distance and past hasn't hindered us, despite how we parted. The Abyss, as said, challenged my perceptions.”

“And I am too tired after you found me to remain as I once was.” Kolivan stares down at his wrists. The skin is visible there, along with deep cuts from the cuffs.

“I don't think either of us are in the right frame of mind to consider these things, until there is stability again.” It's hard to say, but it's the right thing for them both now. Or at least, it's the right thing for her. Kolivan nods his head slowly, weighing up her words.

* * *

They find out they're not totally alone in the universe two phoebs' after Kolivan's rescue while on the run from the Fire of Purification. They found two Galra – Tarak and Varaz – and in turn, found a band of rebels not originally aligned with the Coalition. When Tarak had seen them, he seemed to whoop in delight, pointing excitedly at Kolivan's outfit. It was a strange reception, because typically, no one was happy to see a Blade, not even some of their allies for understandable reasons.

“We used to work on some outpost way out on the fringes,” Varaz says, waving his spoon about as he talks, “so for us, it was good to hear Lotor won the Kral Zera, because honestly? He wasn't like his dad. Well okay, maybe he was a bit screwed up, but I blame the family personally. He actually bothered to send us GAC to fix things, which was more then what Zarkon ever bothered with.”

“See, the politics of Central Command never got that far out. So it's meant that now, with I...think,” Tarak, a little skinnier then the lean Varaz, looks at Varaz as if unsure, “Sendak? Yeah, him, being the last member of High Command I think alive?”

“No, Gnov's alive I heard. She's taken control of Central Command apparently but closed it off. There's talk the Fire of Purification is going to try and take it back at some point.” Varaz hums as he takes a spoonful of food, his furred ears pointing a little further up in contentment.

“Okay, thanks. Yeah, so, Sendak's alive from what we know, but no one really _knows_ where he is. But because of all the old politics from Central, it's meant that if you don't side with him, or pay protection GAC, pretty much you're fucked at present.” Tarak sets his spoon down and takes the small jug, topping up Kolivan and Krolia's glasses. “So we both ran, which isn't very Galran, but honestly? I'm fed up being ruled by tyrants or psychopaths. You guys though? Gods, everyone thought you were dead! It's really good to see the Blade of Marmora back.” Kolivan wants to say they aren't back, but Krolia cuts him off.

“Our forces sustained heavy losses, but we can say with certainty that the Druids are dead.” She takes a bite of the insect the pair have served up with a small hum of appreciation. “This is good. Thank you.” Kolivan watches Tarak and Varaz look at each other for a moment, then back with wide eyes, pupils like they'd seen stars.

“You _took out the Druids?_ ” Tarak's red eyes are big and round. “The _Druids_? Those creepy cloaked things that just glided everywhere?” Kolivan nods his head and brings his sword to the table. It was once an act considered bad manners, but considering the blaster on the table, he presumes manners were out the airlock.

“The ceremonial blades are made of luxite, which has magic qualities even the Alteans could not understand. They are able to absorb and purify tainted,” he plays with the word, “magic.”

“But Galra aren't magic? Are you magic, Varaz?” Tarak is correct that Galra have no magical qualities. Kolivan toys with the blade in hand, recalling how he's learned of it.

“When the Galra and Alteans were at war, long before Zarkon, the early Blade of Marmora served a different purpose. They were elite warriors loyal to the ruler at the time, and were often charged with fighting their Mages. It was during this time, this property with luxite was discovered, and in the coming millennia, was used against enemies. It was used again during the Altean genocide. It was after that we separated from the Empire, and took everything into hiding with us.” Kolivan sets it down with a clatter to a silence around the table. Their history is muddied, much like the Empires.

“Were you there?” Varaz asks quietly, and Kolivan nods once. “There's a lot, we're not taught.”

“A lot was lost to history.” Kolivan knows of what the Archivist and Zarkon has done. Huge swathes of their old culture and history has been lost. There were few left now, and he suspected less after three deca-phoebs.

“Do you think,” Varaz glances at Tarak, “you could teach us? The Empire isn't what it is, and the Fire of Purification is pretty terrible as well if you don't agree with Sendak. We want some level of stability again, but we're really messed up as a race. The Blade of Marmora at least fought and helped take down Zarkon. You guys...you guys did so much.” It is a rarity anyone praises the work of the Blade. Kolivan doesn't do this job for praise, but it feels nice to be appreciated. Yet, with more people, it means that they become a larger risk. Yet, and he looks to Krolia, who offers a small smile and nod of her head, Kolivan thinks between them they could handle things. He cannot go on like he did before, as the universal stage has shifted. The old ways of the Blade of Marmora were going to die, but perhaps, that was a good thing.

* * *

Krolia stands before a mirror and smooths out the wrap. It has been three phoebs since Tarak, Varaz, and the collection of rebels, came to live with them at a small outpost. Kolivan had surprised her with this gift, and she is grateful. While she was a senior member in her own right, the wrap and pads were to show that she understood the values and philosophies of Marmora. Ulaz and Thace were the only two she knew besides Kolivan who had attained the right to wear this, and Kolivan had been training Antok specifically for his great promise, and to one quintant take over. Kolivan told her that Keith will likely attain his quickly at the rate he has progressed. He promises Krolia it isn't favouritism, or because they need him here realistically. Krolia holds the blade within her hand. She misses Keith terribly, and hopes that where-ever he is now, he's safe. He has his friends, and Kosmo, and Krolia knows that he is strong. Yet, she cannot help her maternal instincts or feel irresponsible. She wishes that he was here, that she could start all over again and give Keith the Galran upbringing he deserved. She didn't hate Kolivan for it, but wished it was _her_ who trained Keith instead.

There's a sharp knock on her door, and Krolia swipes at her eyes.

“Enter.” She turns and to no surprise, finds Kolivan taking a step into her room. He stops and stares at her, mouth agape and eyes wide, before it is gone, and he shifts between each foot as if realising he was staring.

“You look...it fits you well. I mean, it suits you, no, yes...you look like a respectable member of seniority.” Krolia's eyebrow can't go any higher. He truly was terrible at complimenting, but she is still distracted.

“Thank you.” She settles on the bed, fiddling with her hair.

“Something troubles you. I can tell.” She hears his footfalls, and the mattress behind her depresses. “You are holding your blade, is it Keith?” Krolia hums a reply. “You know that he will be fine. He is strong, just like his mother.” Krolia cannot help her sharp laughter.

“I suppose he is.” She licks her lips. “I know he is capable of surviving without me, because he has for so long. Yet,” she closes her eyes, “this. Training Tarak and Varaz, I wish it was what I could have done with him.” Kolivan is silent for a few ticks.

“Do you think you could have allowed him to undertake the work that we did? Do you think, if you had brought him back, that we would have all allowed him to go and risk his life? Within the Blade, you were the only one to have a family bound by blood.” Kolivan shifts behind her. “I believe if we had all been there to watch him grow, none of us could morally allow him to undertake the work we do. It perhaps sounds strange, coming from me of all people, but when he came, he wanted to be with us. There is a difference between him growing up within the ranks and feeling indebted to helping the mission and actively seeking it out.”

“Was this why you waited for him?” Krolia is surprised by his response. Kolivan shifts behind her again, and she feels a hand upon her shoulder.

“I wanted to protect your legacy. He was ultimately dragged into space, perhaps for the better from what I can recall of what past he has spoken of, and I could not imagine you being best pleased with me if I allowed him to die.” She touches his hand, eyes fluttering half-open.

“You truly care for him, don't you?” Kolivan squeezes her arm in response. “Thank you.” She shuffles around and takes him by both hands. “ _Thank you_.”

* * *

Kolivan had never done handiwork in his life, and it was showing as he tries to nail down a piece of roofing. He swears, fur bristling, at the pain that lances through his thumb. To his left, one of the local aliens laughs.

“Here, let me show you so you don't hurt yourself again.” They take the hammer from Kolivan's hand, and carefully line up the nail. “See, just do it like this, otherwise you bend the nail or damage the roofing.” With a quick tap, the felt is hammered into place.

“I see. I understand your instruction.” Kolivan offers a quick nod, and the alien's lips tug upwards.

“You don't need to be so formal, but glad to help. I mean,” they gesture around the town, “you're helping us. Thanks for staying after you took down the Galra occupation. It's nice, having support for longer than a few days.”

“We are all rebuilding in our own ways,” Kolivan places the felt down, brows creased in pure concentration, “and assisting others through aid is one way to do so. It is a long process to bring back stability in such uncertain times. There is much that needs to be done when there is no infrastructure.”

“Are you talking about here, or the old Empire?” Kolivan raises the hammer, but gives the question pause.

“I suppose I am talking about both.” He strikes down, and the nail taps in. His alien companion claps their four hands together.

“Well done! We have about,” they lean around Kolivan, quickly counting to themselves, “about fifty roofs to go, but I think if we crack on now, we might get it done by the end of the week.” Kolivan bites his tongue. This is a joke, he believes, but in case it is not, he shall double his efforts. From the corner of his eye, he catches Krolia carrying great beams of timber on her shoulders. Varaz and Tarak trailing behind, and a small crowd following the three. Perhaps this is what the Blade of Marmora could do in the future.

“That wife of yours is pretty strong!” Kolivan almost smashes the hammer against his fingers. He snaps his head to the alien, sat with a smile on their face.

“She is not my wife.”

“Oh?” They ask. “It's just how you two were together earleir; you just seem very close, and your face just then.”

“What about my face?” Kolivan's brows crease.

“I mean it's hard to tell with Galra – no offence – but your face is a lot softer-looking after you glanced down. Sorry. I mis-read the signs.” They shrugged their shoulders, and Kolivan nods slowly. He had no concept that he was becoming obvious of all things regarding Krolia, and if an alien had thought that, what did she think? Yes, she knew, but he didn't want her presuming he was attempting to forcibly endear himself to her.

* * *

Over the last phoeb, they'd found a half-Galra named Nita held as a slave on an alien ship. Compared to Tarak and Varaz, she was built and larger. She'd been kidnapped because of her Galran status and forced into servitude. It was something Kolivan had foreseen happening at some point in time, but something he wasn't happy being correct about. For sensitivity and comfort, Krolia takes care of her. This was the first quintant since they found Nita that she'd willingly left the room on the base with Krolia as her escort. Kolivan watches the pair from the training room as they pass, both Varaz and Tarak glancing up in curiosity at her.

“Do you think she'll join us, Kolivan?” Varaz presses Tarak against the mats below.

“I do not know. It may not be the type of life that is right for her, considering the range of aliens we have helped at present.” Kolivan mutters, glancing down at the pair. “Release him and try again.”

“It'll be nice to have someone else with us, and who can carry heavy stuff. When do you think we'll meet Keith?” Varaz lets go of Tarak, who whines moderately pathetically.

“I,” Kolivan exhales as he glances down at the pair, “think you both need more training and exercise. You are not small, and should be able to carry plenty. Regarding Keith, I do not know. He is the Black Paladin of Voltron, and that role is a heavy one.” Kolivan had found himself thinking of Keith more frequently as of late, and whether that was due to Krolia, he wasn't certain. The boy had once ran from his duties as Black Paladin, and now he was fulfilling the role. Krolia may claim that he had helped Keith, but it was through her that he was able to find the peace within himself to finally take the mantle. Shiro and Kolivan were mentors along Keith's path, but Krolia was the last piece of the puzzle.

* * *

The phoebs have passed in a blur. Under Kolivan and Krolia's tutelage, Tarak, Varaz, and now Nita, had progressed at such speed, Kolivan thought them ready to undergo the trials. There is just one glaring problem, they did not have what they required. All remaining blades still sat on that planet where he was held. While Kolivan did not fear the planet, it was a place he did not wish to return to. At this, Krolia agreed. Kolivan watches the afterburners on the ship flicker away into the distance, and turns to Krolia at his side.

“Despite the Fire of Purification dealing with other matters, I still have my concerns around this.” Kolivan folds his arms behind his back. “Deviating from the typical trials.”

“While it isn't tradition,” Krolia places a hand upon his arm, “it is still a trial. They have the co-ordinates and training, and that is all we can provide.”

“I know.” Kolivan turns back to the display. “It will allow them to learn more of us, and whether they are truly ready to accept the blade.”

“They'll still need training to awaken it, if required.” Krolia places her hand against his arm. “It isn't just the break from tradition, is it?”

“No.” Kolivan answers her so quickly, he's surprised himself.

“I see.” Krolia tugs the sleeve. “Come, let us drink.” He follows after her retreating form, somewhat grateful Krolia does not press, but he knows that this is her way of asking 'do you want to talk about it?'.

* * *

Not only did Tarak, Varaz, and Nita bring back the blades and find their own; but they also came bearing news. Sendak is on Earth. While Krolia knows they have Voltron, and knows they have faced Sendak in the past, she cannot help her concern for Keith. She has to leave; she has to find out where they are, and judging from how far away they are at present from Earth, it's going to take time to get there, and that's with stops. She knows she has Kolivan's support, and also the new members, and even the rebels that stay with them. Krolia pushes the hair from her face as she packs a bag. They should have found that out sooner, should have just gone. She swipes things from the bed, and shoves them in with more and more ferocity. If Sendak's harmed a hair on Keith's head, she will murder him. Krolia will see the bastard dead at her feet.

“Krolia.” She snaps her head up to find Kolivan looking over at her from the doorway. He tilts his head to the side, brows drawn deep. “We will get there. We will get to Keith.”

“I don't have time to talk, Kolivan.” she stuffs material into the bag, but it doesn't fit right. She tries again. “Are you ready? We have to make haste and leave.”

“Everyone is ready.” Krolia blinks. That was awfully fast. “They could tell by your expression that they needed to be quick.” Kolivan crosses the room to her, and she allows him at her side. “Let me.” His voice is soft as he eases both hands over hers. “You are frantic. Sit, and give yourself five dobosh's.”

“I don't need you to-”

“I want to. Sit.” He stares at her, and she matches his gaze. His hands give hers a squeeze. “For me?” Kolivan asks, and Krolia lets out a long sigh.

“Fine.” She drops onto the bed, elbows resting upon her thighs. Kolivan makes idle chatter as he works, refolding the clothes she's pushed in. It takes him little time to re-pack it, and Krolia takes in from his hands once he's done. “Thank you.” She mumbles, slinging it over her shoulder. “We will return here, won't we?” Kolivan nods, because there's very few bases left at this point, and it had become home, somewhat, for them all.

* * *

“Master Kolivan?” Kolivan glances up from the data pad he's reading to find Tarak with an awkward look upon his face, ears drooping. It's a habit that the new recruits have all gotten into, and while Kolivan doesn't see it as necessary, they're all rather adamant to refer to them as such as a mark of respect.

“Has she fallen asleep again?” He asks, and Tarak nods. “I see. You did not try to wake her, did you?”

“No, Master Kolivan.” He stands more rigid, and Kolivan waves his hand dismissively. A typical habit brought about working for the Empire. “I left her this time.”

“Thank you, Tarak, for letting me know.” Kolivan sets the pad down and follows the younger Blade back to the cockpit. Krolia has been running herself into the ground through her stubbornness, and while they have argued this between them, she still has continued to do so. Kolivan carefully eases her from the seat, and hoists her up into his arms. There was a particular way to carry her – one he'd found when they used to train deca-phoebs ago together.

“Master Krolia is worried, isn't she?” Tarak whispers as Kolivan carries her to the door. Krolia has said bits about Keith, but never given them all the full story. Kolivan won't say anything more, for it's hers to tell.

“It is natural for a mother to worry about her child. Keith leads a life that would exacerbate that ten-fold. We will get to Earth, and we will assist in what ways we can.” He says, before heading out.

Kolivan carries her to the small room she has upon the ship and gently places her down on the sheets. She stirs, and a single eye cracks open. That amethyst pupil rests on his face, a glassy look in it, before Krolia rolls with a soft moan to the side. She is tired – exhausted – and since they found each other again, Kolivan is uncertain how much she has truly rested.

“Sleep, and I pray Marmora grants you passage to good dreams.” Kolivan pauses to swipe away stray strands of hair, but resists. He clenches his hand into a ball as he pulls away. In sleep she looks at least at peace.

* * *

Krolia perches on the side of Keith's hospital bed. The doctors claim he should be coming around in a few quintants. Before they landed on Earth, Krolia and the others saw the debris that floated around the planet. There had been a battle – a huge one – that she could not help with. Yet while she knew Keith would survive, rationally, seeing him in the hospital bed did not ease her nerves. She takes his limp hand in her own, stroking a thumb over the skin.

“You have no idea,” she mutters, “how immensely proud of you I am.” She raises Keith's hand to her lips, and plants a kiss against the skin. “I will tell you when you wake, and when this war is done for good, I will tell you every quintant.” She can feel her chest constrict, a lump that is immovable in her throat. “Even though,” her voice wavers and shakes, “I am sure you will,” it cracks, “tire of it. Know that I mean it and I...I...” Krolia squeezes her eyes shut, tears finally escaping, “I love you.” She sobs in a way she hasn't before. They are pulled deep from the cavity of her chest, yet she holds on to Keith's hand like it's a life line, and peppers kisses between sobs against the skin so damp with her tears.

-

Kolivan stands with Shiro surveying the ship; the Atlas. He barely remembers seeing Shiro the last time they met, but it is good to see him at least. From the smile he receives, the feelings are likely reciprocated. Shiro was the one to bring them all up to speed, and since they came to Earth, the one helping. There's stress lines beneath his eyes, but the human still wears the calm and authoritative persona that Kolivan came to know well in the past, but now there is something different about him, aside from the white hair.

“It's strange,” Shiro starts slowly, “how things have changed, even if they feel so similar.”

“In what sense?” Kolivan asks.

“When I couldn't connect to Black any more, I thought my usefulness had expired. I was just stood around, told to rest.” Shiro stops again and stares at his hand. “I hated that. Yet now, I have this, and we've got a unique connection, thanks to the old Castleship. It feels...strange to be leading again, after so long. Well,” he narrows his eyes at the floor, “it's hard to say. I don't know if I'm making sense.”

“You make sense.” Kolivan replies. It is similar to how he has felt. “The Blade of Marmora has changed, as I am sure you have noticed. We all try and rebuild from the ground up again.”

“I don't think I can do what I did before.”

“What do you mean?” Kolivan tilts his head to Shiro.

“I can't,” Shiro looks to him, “help like I used to. Be there the same way as I was for the team. Not now.”

“You have new responsibilities,” Kolivan holds his arms behind his back, “and more lives to account for. The Paladins should understand this.”

“I think they will, just...” Shiro glances to the side with a sigh. “You know what I'm like with work.”

“A workaholic. I am aware when we used to plan together. You are doing the same now. Have you,” he glances to Shiro, “seen the others since they were confined to hospital?” Shiro doesn't look at him. “You feel responsible for something out of your control.”

“I don't want to intrude. I'm not,” his shoulders tense, “family. I don't have a right to be there.”

“I still plan to see Keith when he awakens. As someone who means a lot to him, from the trials, and clearly to you,” Kolivan motions with his chin to follow, “it would be my advice to visit. You are looking after the space wolf, correct?” Shiro nods. “Then come with it in tow. I imagine Krolia will not reject you from the room.” Kolivan watches the previous Black Paladin weigh his words up. It is up to Shiro what he chooses to do, but Kolivan hopes that he will see Keith. It was a rarity that those undergoing a trial would be _that_ desperate to see someone; or at least, Kolivan had only seen it twice before.

-

It's been a movement – or Earth week – since Keith woke up. Both Krolia and Kolivan have brought him up to speed on what's going on, and while she thinks that Keith doesn't need to be here any longer, the doctors still need to keep him. Visiting vargas – or hours – are almost over, and Keith has been glancing over at the door. He's inquired about Shiro, and all she and Kolivan can say is that he's caught up with work. While Krolia accepts he has had long meetings, and has seen him rushing between different buildings and looking exhausted, she is still disappointed he has not come to visit, because she has to watch the way Keith's smile fades, and he nods his head.

There's a soft knock at the door, and all occupants turn their heads. Krolia presumes it's the doctor, but when Keith calls to enter, the door opens to reveal Kosmo, and Shiro.

“I'm sorry for cutting it so late.” He says as he awkwardly steps into the room, Kosmo trotting over to Keith with a whine. “There's been...a lot of meetings, and these took a while to get hold of.” Shiro motions with his chin to the bouquet of flowers in his arms. “It's,” he blinks at Keith, “good to see you, Keith.” Krolia notes the way Keith's eyes and face light up as he looks up from Kosmo.

“It's good to see you too, Shiro.” Keith motions to the seat at the side. “Do you want to sit?”

“I think if I do, I might fall asleep.” His features soften, and Krolia looks back to Kolivan. The pair know it's best to leave now, to give them space.

“I will return in the morning,” Krolia stands, and plants a kiss against Keith's forehead, “you rest up, and then perhaps tomorrow, you can meet the others?”

“Others?” Keith asks, as Kosmo hops onto the bed.

“Yes, we have some new members of the Blade of Marmora, and they're quite excited to meet you.” Keith's brows pinch together, before relaxing.

“Yeah, that sounds fine. I'll see you both?” He looks between her and Kolivan.

“Of course.” Krolia smiles warmly, and together, they leave the two alone.

They walk in silence until they exit the medical wing, and with a sigh, Krolia rests her head against Kolivan's shoulder.

“I'm happy Shiro finally came.”

“As am I.” Kolivan brings his arm around her back, a grounding touch against her arm. “I pray to Marmora he will let go of his guilt, and change.”

“I wish they would stop dancing around each other, but I fear sometimes,” she glances up at the night sky, “because of my absence and Keith's past, he doesn't know fully how to express himself, or perhaps it is the Galra in him. I do not know. Keith told me, when they fought, that he had called Shiro a brother, and then that he loved him. The words broke Shiro's clone from Haggar's control for a few ticks, but I wonder.”

“The association of love in a familial sense, or of other attraction. It can be confusing to navigate.”

“I think this is why they are like this.” Krolia is aware of the other connotations of this conversation, much like she suspects Kolivan is. When Keith was out, one of the nurses asked where her partner was, and it had taken a few times from Krolia to realise that partner meant mate here, or was one of many words to refer to it as. It wasn't just the human nurse, but Nita had asked her whether they were 'a thing' early on, while one time, a drunk Varaz had said to her that they were both like the parents he never had. Krolia would admit, they were much closer than they were before, yet there are still reservations in her heart.

“Time will tell,” Kolivan draws her body a little closer, “but this war is not over, and we do not know where Haggar or Honerva is for certain. I believe,” Kolivan pauses, grip tightening, “the Blade of Marmora's purpose has shifted. I will not face the Alteans again. The mech that she sent? We are outclassed.”

“What do you think we should do?” Krolia looks up at him, and Kolivan looks back at her.

“I think we are capable of helping others, and returning to something of an intelligence-gathering service. Now our allies have returned, there will be more assistance, and better access to ships. We just need more members.”

“Always the hardest part.” Krolia pulls away from Kolivan's shoulder. She takes a few steps forward, staring up at the sky that she would fondly watch on nights with Tex. Being here makes her miss him, but he is dead. She can't allow herself to be close to Kolivan, despite their growing closeness. She needs to finally put her feelings and guilt to rest, and maybe then, she can move on finally.

-

The three are subdued and respectful meeting Keith, who looks tiny in the bed compared to the three of them. Krolia's pleased, that despite their previous excitement, that they're calm for him. Nita's asking questions and toying with her hair, while Varaz and Tarak are intently listening, ears very much pinned in his direction.

“So what does your blade look like?” Nita asks as she pulls hers from the hilt. It transforms in her hand, and she presents it to Keith with a smile. He blinks at her, then glances to Krolia.

“His, is like this.” Krolia removes the blade from her side, and the three look at her as it transforms. There's a few gasps as Krolia makes her way back over to the bed, Nita shifting away. “I should return this to you.” She curls his hands around the handle. “Since it was my gift. It's served me well on our travels.” They share a look, and Keith changes it back to the dagger form. Tarak gasps to her side. “I think that's time for today.” Krolia looks around at them. “Go find Kolivan, and he'll have some jobs for you all. Our plan is to help the Earthlings, so go.”

“Can we come see Keith again, Master Krolia?” Nita pipes up, glancing down at Keith with a smile. Keith offers a polite one back.

“I will speak to Keith. Now, off you go.” She gestures to the door, and the three wish Keith a swift recovery as they leave.

“They seem nice.” Keith says as he flops back against the pillow, reaching for one of the flowers from the bouquet.

“They have all trained hard. For phoebs, they've been excited to meet you.”

“I'm not anything special.” Keith offers, as he toys with the petals.

“To them you are, as a Blade and Black Paladin.” Krolia shuffles closer up the bed. “I am so proud of you.”

“Mom,” Keith starts as he strokes the petal, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“If I'd come with you, would I have been trained like them? Maybe not the same, but by you and Kolivan? I sometimes wonder at how different my life would've been if I was raised Galran.” Krolia looks over her son, looks over how he is now. She recalls the conversation she had with Kolivan.

“While you would have been trained by Ulaz,” Krolia leans forwards and takes his hands in hers, “it would have been unlikely you would have been sent on missions.” Keith's brows pinch together again.

“What good would I have been if you didn't let me do missions?”

“Other uses would have been found, such as listening stations or technical jobs. Really, being an agent is not a job you should be forced into. While yes, I would have loved to give you a Galran upbringing, I think with you father it was better for you. You know of our colder disposition. Besides which,” she grasps his hand tighter, “who would be saving the universe?” They both share a laugh together.

“I guess I feel a little jealous. Just listening to them, it sounded...nice.” Keith places the flower back on the side. “Then again, I wouldn't have met Shiro either.”

“Has he come to visit again?” Krolia asks.

“Yeah.” Keith looks to her. “He came late last night, after-hours. He says he's working with Kolivan and the other members of the Coalition, and now the Garrison's properly involved. He's heading it, effectively.”

“He is, yes.”

“I'm worried,” Keith sits up, “that I might lose him. That we might drift with what's to come. Have,” he leans forwards so his hair covers his eyes, “you ever felt like that?” Krolia weighs her words. She knows how Keith feels, but has reservations speaking to him around such things. She has yet to say her formal goodbyes to Tex.

“I have, and those feelings are complicated to navigate.” She leans back on the bed. “There was once someone I loved, before your father, but felt the feelings not reciprocated. Eventually, I moved on, but,” she glances out the window where Kolivan typically reclines beside, “now the memory of your father lingers, and I cannot move on like I wish to.” She turns her attention back to Keith, whose pupils linger on where her gaze travelled to. He goes to speak, but doesn't.

“We can go,” Keith says slowly, “to dad's grave. I know where it is, if Sendak didn't blow it up I mean.” He offers his hands out, and looks Krolia straight in his eyes as she takes them. “I think dad would want you to be happy and live, and I think he'll be happier knowing that we found each other.”

“You father would be proud of what and who you've become, Keith.” She leans forward, and their foreheads touch.

-

After vargas of cleaning up the grave, Keith and Krolia can finally stand back and breath. This is the place she had seen from Keith's memory in the Abyss, and she wonders if he stands in the same place as that memory. This time he is not alone. Krolia takes his hand in hers. Nothing but the wind blows between them, and the Earth birds are the only creatures that make a sound. She reads Tex's name, his date of birth and death, and the inscription upon the stone, over and over.

The silence is finally broken as Keith clears his throat.

“This was somewhere I always used to come when I could. One time I got a bus from one city to another, just to sit here and talk to him. I'd,” Keith clenches her hand tighter, “cuss him out when I was angry at the situation I was in. I regret that looking back. I have an idea now of the choices he had to make. I think I made something similar at Naxzela, just I didn't die there.” Krolia squeezes his hand in response.

“I am glad you never died. To know that you, and him, perished without my knowledge,” she tugs Keith into her bosom, and just holds him, “would destroy me. I regret not being the mother you deserved, and I regretted leaving you both.”

“You don't need to tell me again, mom. I know you feel bad, but now I can understand why.” Keith's arms reach around her back, and his fingers cling to her. Just like he did when he was a baby.

“I must tell you, because it's the biggest guilt and shame that I carry. I broke this family apart.”

“No,” Keith holds her tighter, “you did what you had to do to protect us. If you hadn't left, then the Galra would have come looking for those missing ships. Earth would have been in more trouble, and you know that.” Krolia does know that, and is eternally grateful to Marmora that her son is able to understand. All she can do is hold Keith tighter.

“Thank you.”

-

Since Krolia visited Tex's grave, and the old house she'd lived in for a deca-phoeb, there was something about her disposition that had changed. Often times at night, she would lean against the window sill of their quarters and stare up at the sky with a wistful expression upon her face. While Kolivan had tried to pry, she would tell him she was fine. Kolivan knew she was lying, but would give her the required space. That was until now.

“Come out with me.” She turns to him, and her expression is something unreadable. Kolivan sets down the data pad.

“Where do you want to go?”

“For a walk. The desert looks nice, and you can tell me if it is like Daibazaal was.” He arches a brow, but if this is Krolia strategically asking him to listen and talk, then Kolivan will take it. He'd like to know what is wrong with her, and hadn't realised just how much he enjoyed listening to her voice, or how much it hurt to have her close off. He supposed this was what it felt like, or she must have felt like, all those deca-phoebs ago.

“I would enjoy that. The report is quite tedious, I will admit.” He stands as Krolia moves towards the door.

It takes little time to clear the Garrison, and as they reach the sands, Krolia pauses to remove her shoes. Kolivan is bemused by such an action.

“I used to imagine, when I lived here, this was what the sands of Daibazaal were like between my toes.” She curls them against the sand. “I was wondering what your assessment would be.”

“You would like me to do the same?” Kolivan finds it strange, but endearing. He glances around, and makes quick work of the boots. The sand under his feet is lukewarm; the heat of the sun barely retained any longer. He curls his own toes, trying to recall the memories of his youth. It is hard. “I do not know.”

“Perhaps you'll remember, if we go for that walk?” She carries her shoes in one hand, and Kolivan, with a sigh, does the same.

He does not know how long they have walked for until Krolia speaks again.

“It has been hard returning to this place with the information that I know now, and harder still to make sense of it over the last few phoebs. The guilt I felt at leaving was already strong, and now knowing Tex is dead, and I have seen his grave,” she comes to a stop at a rock, “it has made it all very real to me. It has accumulated over all this time, and now it has finally released.” She climbs the rock, and Kolivan follows in silence. “I feel like I should be mourning, but I believe I have mourned already. It is a strange feeling.” Kolivan can comprehend aspects of what she speaks, but his point of reference is not the best suited.

“I cannot speak for what is right for you,” Kolivan resettles cross-legged, “but perhaps this is the closure you needed. You spent two deca-phoebs in the Quantum Abyss, and then there has been the phoebs since we found each other. We have had many distractions.”

“Both good and bad.” Krolia smiles, but it is not one of complete joy. Kolivan sighs, staring out at the foreign stars.

“I am here for you as a confidant, always. You have done much for me.”

“And you have been there for me too.” She says. They sit in silence for a few dobosh's until he feels her fingers brush against his knuckles. “Another component of these strange feelings revolves around you.” Kolivan's heart skips a beat.

“Is this why you have been strange with me lately?” Krolia hums her agreement.

“These feelings I have,” she licks her lips, “conflicted with those for Tex despite his death. We have grown so much closer over these last few phoebs since the planet we were stuck on, and while we have touched upon them, I feel that we both have...” she trails off, lowering her head, “been dancing around the issue. Or at least, I have.”

“I have never pushed or pressed my affections since we last spoke, but I agree that we are much closer.” Kolivan unclenches his hand, and brushes her fingers tentatively with his own. “We share quarters, I allow you to help with grooming. I have allowed you close on the basis of trust, but I will admit that I have, at times, selfishly wished it to go further. Yet, I do not want to make you uncomfortable, or ask that you forget Tex. You loved him, and I think you always will. May I admit something to you, I believe for a second timr?” He turns his head to find Krolia's gaze. It is not so intense as usual.

“Tell me.”

“I have never once been angry that you broke mission all those deca-phoebs ago, I never considered Keith your mistake – or Shiro Ulaz's for that matter – but it was my jealously.”

“What were you jealous of?” Her voice is above a whisper, and Kolivan finds himself turning his head away.

“I was jealous because of the feelings I had but could never say to you. The position I held meant I could not, and it has been a regret of mine for deca-phoebs. I was angry I had...selfishly thought I had missed an opportunity with you, and then angrier still at myself for those thoughts. Keith was once a reminder of what could have been, but what did not come to pass.”

“Yet you still protected him on missions like he was your own.” She says, and this time Kolivan grunts a response.

“I did not wish to tell you these things, but for what we have been through together, I feel I owe you the honesty. After this is over, you are free to leave the Blade of Marmora if you desire. I know that you will want to spend time with Keith, and I will not stop you from having the family you missed. If I must, I will have to order you to leave.” Kolivan attempts a smile. “I simply want the best for you.”

Krolia respects Kolivan's honesty. As the wind ruffles their hair, she moves closer, and he does the same. While she was certain they had discussed this before, it was such a long time ago now.

“I believe at times I have played with your heart.”

“I did the same to you.” Kolivan replies.

“I suppose that makes us even.” She tilts her head around, and Kolivan once again matches her.

“It does.” Their gazes linger. Krolia's pupils track the scar down the side of his face, and she can see the tiredness in his eyes. There's a handful of dull thuds, from both him and her. Her hand finds his shoulder, and his carefully cups the side of her cheek. Kolivan strokes his thumb against her marking, and she watches his face soften. There's a hint of that lop-sided smile that she's so fond of.

“The Blade of Marmora is changing.” She murmurs.

“The Blade of Marmora has changed. I think we are best suited for aiding others now. I think, as leader, I can perhaps close that chapter on our history. The Galra Empire does not exist in that state any longer, and like it, we must change and adapt to this new universe. It has...taken a long time for me to accept this.” Kolivan's free hand finds her wrist. “You, Tarak, Varaz, Nita, and Keith have all shown me that we are still needed. When once I thought the Blade unnecessary, you in particular helped change my mind. You have been...” he trails off with a soft chuckle. “You make me like this, unable to fully explain myself.”

“It appears we are both too repressed in our own ways to be so open.” Krolia takes his hand in hers.

“There is time, if you are willing to commit it.” While part of Krolia still feels that she should show loyalty to Tex, in her heart she knows he would want her to move on, and be happy.

“I do need to teach my son a lesson about openness, and perhaps he will then do what he needs to.”

“Well if you require assistance, I will do what I can. Do you think,” Kolivan tilts his head to the side, “he would accept this?”

“I believe Keith knows.” Krolia knows Keith has suspicions, but typically he does not press. The wind rustles her hair more, and she feels Kolivan's fingers move, and brush the strands behind her ears. She feels herself move in to the touch. Despite the callouses, Kolivan is always gentle. She feels at peace, or at least as at peace as she can allow herself.

Neither know who initiates, but their lips brush. Kolivan's hand moves into the back of her hair, and hers move around his neck. Lips touch; warm and soft with a hint of sand. While it may be fleeting, the moment has Kolivan's chest flutter. He wants to deepen it, but does not want to push his luck. They pull apart slowly, but their hands don't leave. Under the starlight, Krolia is beautiful. She has always been beautiful, strong and fierce, but has this softness to her that she keeps reserved, and Kolivan has been honoured that she allows him to see it.

“I do not know if this is too soon,” Kolivan's voice is low, because he fears her rejection still, “but would you allow me to court you?” Krolia blinks at him a few times, eyes wide as she takes the request in.

“You truly can be quite ridiculous.” She pulls him back in, and kisses him again. “Of course, you oblivious fool.”

“There is one thing I will say,” Kolivan mutters against her lips, “the sand here does not feel like Daibazaal.”

-

Krolia oversees the training match between Keith and Nita. While Nita is a touch stronger than Keith physically, it is his speed and experience that takes the win for him. A few humans watch along with Tarak and Varaz, who give her confused looks when the humans start slapping their hands together and cheer.

“Master Krolia,” Tarak leans in, “what are they doing? Do you think it is a human battle cry?”

“No,” Krolia had never known Tex to make this action, but as she looks around, the humans are smiling, “they appear happy. It should be fine.”

“Oh,” Tarak eyes Varaz, who stares at his own hands, “don't you-” Varaz slaps his hands together, and it makes a noise.

“My palms sting but that's about it.” Varaz arches an eyebrow.

“What _are_ you doing?” Keith asks as him and Nita arrive.

“We don't understand the hand slaps.” Tarak speaks before Varaz can say anything. “Is it a good thing? Are the humans summoning others?” Keith's pupils dart to the side as he thinks.

“You mean clapping? Like this.” Keith claps his hands together.

“Yes, that!” Tarak grows rigid. “I'm not sure I like the sound.” Keith nods his head slowly.

“There's nothing wrong with clapping. People just,” he rolls his shoulders, “do it when they're entertained.”

“So we were entertaining, Master Keith?” Nita grins at him. Keith, as oblivious as she could be, simply nods.

“I guess so.” His attention shifts to the door at the far end, and Krolia turns. Bother Kolivan and Shiro enter. It appeared their meeting had finished, and Krolia had yet to speak to Keith.

“Tarak, Varaz, Nita.” She places her hands on her hips. “I need to speak to Keith. Why don't you go and tell Kolivan about your quintant, and see if there's any orders. Your training is over for now.” All three of them nod and jog over to Kolivan and Shiro, and with a deep breath, Krolia turns. Keith, understandably, looks confused. “It is...nothing serious, but there is something I wish to,” she shifts from one foot to the other, “speak to you about.” She places her arms behind her back, because Krolia doesn't know how Keith will take the news. His pupils take in her form, and she can see him tense.

“Is everything okay? You seem really rigid.” Keith speaks slowly. “You're...not sick are you?”

“No, I am not sick.”

“Is Kolivan sick?”

“No, he's fine.”

“So,” Keith also shifts from foot to foot, “if no ones sick, what's...up?” Krolia thinks it might be her disposition that makes Keith nervous like this, and this is one thing she must fix over the coming phoebs and deca-phoebs.

“You asked me, when you were back in hospital, about whether I had felt like you had when we discussed Shiro. Do you recall?” Keith nods at her. This is good. “I was quite difficult to get an answer from-”

“I didn't think you were difficult, but I thought that whoever it was, was someone you had reservations about.” Krolia blinks. This may be considerably easier then she thought. “I'll let you carry on, but I think I know what you're going to say.” Keith visibly relaxes, and Krolia can let a sigh of relief go.

“That person is,” she still hesitates, watching Keith's face like a hawk, “Kolivan.” Keith doesn't blink, but his lips twitch in a knowing way.

“So you like Kolivan. Does...he like you?”

“We mutually have more feelings than 'liking' each other. It was...recently spoken about when we went for a night walk in the desert.”

“So,” Keith folds his arms across his chest, but his shoulders aren't tense, “are you seeing each other? Is this you awkwardly telling me you have a boyfriend now?”

“We see each other every quintant, but if it's the same as courting, then yes.” Keith gives her a puzzled look. Of course he doesn't know about courting, it was never something she discussed, or him with Kolivan it would seem. “Courting in Galran terminology is quite specific. This is typically reserved for when you would like to make someone your mate, but you take a steadier approach because it isn't as. _..obvious_ as other mateships. Or clear _.”_ Krolia pauses. “Previous to Kolivan, your father would have been classed as a mate, and we had a mateship.”

“Are you asking for my permission? Are you asking if I'm okay with you two courting after dad died?” Keith's brows pinch together as Krolia nods her head. “Mom, you worry way too much. Of course I'm okay with it. If he makes you happy, then do what makes you happy. You don't need to ask for my blessing.”

“I just thought that you would reject the idea, that you thought I was trying to replace your father.”

“Mom, you're _not_. Kolivan's been a father-figure when I've needed it. He can't replace dad, and he won't, but he still means a lot to me. Besides,” Keith gestures at the others, “it seems you've adopted three new kids into the family – and that's a joke, by the way, not a dig.” To show that Keith is not defensive, he smiles as he steps into her space. “I want you to be happy, just promise me one thing, okay?” He wraps his arms around her, and Krolia does the same.

“What is it you ask?”

“I don't want to _hear_ the _intimate_ details of your relationship.” He nuzzles against her cheek. “I've heard the horror stories from Pidge and Lance and their parents.” Krolia blinks, but presumes it's an Earth-thing.

“Should I extend the same to if and when you and Shiro start courting?”

“I think that's fair, if it happens. We've met up a bit more frequently outside of meetings. It's nice.” Keith pulls away with a soft smile. “I think I know him better now then what I used to. Maybe he could be a 'mate' for me? I don't know. Can we talk later?”

“Of course, but don't wait. Do not let it draw out over hundreds of deca-phoebs like we did.” Krolia firmly states, and she hopes Keith will listen. “Do not let...repression, stop you.” Keith really looks at her, and then glances over at the others. She knows that look.

-

They sit atop the Garrison building. Tomorrow the Atlas launches, taking them all back to space. The Blade of Marmora's role moving forward, will be to assist intelligence-gathering around Honerva's plans. The others have been briefed on their duties, and there is a chance that one of Lotor's old General's could become a member. This one, after speaking with Keith, is still hunting for belonging, but it sounds like she has unfinished business. Kolivan raises his head with a soft grunt, rubbing his neck.

“Your shoulder is not the most comfortable of cushions.”

“I did tell you, you could lay in my lap.” Krolia tucks his braid back around his neck. The awkwardness between them has lessened as they navigate courting, but when Kolivan thinks, they had a solid foundation to begin with. He has his anxieties of course when it comes to the...physical side of things, because it has been a little _too_ long for his personal liking. For now, it seems like a long way off, and isn't a major worry at present. He's still astounded that Krolia has given the courtship a chance.

Something teal and glowing catches his eye, and sure enough, Kolivan spies the newly promoted Admiral crossing the space beneath them. Shiro eventually disappears under the Atlas, and with a stretch and a yawn, Krolia nudges him.

“I'm happy he turned up.”

“Do you not think this was a little invasive?” Kolivan would be mortified if he knew his mother had done something like this.

“While yes,” Krolia rises to her feet, “it is invasive, I'm not staying. I just wanted to see if Shiro did show up.” Kolivan follows her away from the edge of the roof. “I just want to know what to expect come the morning.” It is a reasonable point, Kolivan thinks, as he takes her free hand in his own. “I know I cannot and should not intervene.”

“What happens, happens.” Kolivan tries to soothe, and he thinks it works when she clenches his hand tighter.

* * *

After they left the Atlas, Kolivan and Krolia set back up in the base they used before they went to Earth. Instead of the resident rebels living here with them, they offer a way-point now for allies to slip in and out. Over the last phoeb, information has come in, and a handful of new Galra have found them. Krolia and Kolivan are constantly busy, but they know that at the end of the quintant, there is a warm bed and good company waiting. Especially now that, since the Fire of Purification has fractured completely, there are calls now for someone to take charge. Kolivan didn't know why another Kral Zera hadn't taken place, but he had heard rumours of Honerva attacking one. He still awaited confirmation. If that was the case, the old Empire was truly gone. Perhaps it being gone was what was needed to rebuild, and from a report he had received from the Atlas, that process was already starting with an ex-Empire man called Lahn. Then, of course, came the threat of Honerva out there.

* * *

They came to the ship a few quintants' ago after the Paladins had been to Oriande. Both Krolia and Kolivan were happy Keith was safe, and happier still that none of the Paladins had sustained any injuries. It was just Allura that had the pair worried most. Something about her seems off, but Krolia couldn't put her finger on it. Kolivan noted she seemed pre-occupied enough to have Lance notice. He had more experience dealing with the other Paladins then she had, so Krolia would take his word on the matter. Keith and Shiro, after their meeting, gave the pair a proper tour of the ship. Krolia's heart warms to see her son so happy and at ease. His confidence comes out around Shiro, who looks less tired then the last time she saw him. Kolivan teases her that she has become one of _those_ Galran mothers, near-obsessed with their child's potential mate. Krolia doesn't respond, unless it's in training. In which case, Kolivan has very much _felt_ her reply to said comments when he's hit the training mats.

Now, the two sit with glasses in an officers lounge. There's a variety of Earth alcohols here, and some different alien types. Kolivan is desperately trying to ignore the pair of humans who he swears have been stalking him over the course of the last quintant with some strange device. Krolia recognises them as MFE pilots.

“Just speak to them.” Krolia lifts the glass to her lips as Kolivan's ears twitch.

“I do not want to. Or trust them.” He grumbles, swiping up the glass and downing the contents.

“I'm certain they're harmless. Would you like me to speak to them?” Krolia grins at him, and Kolivan knows she's poking at his pride. He grumbles again, lifting the bottle.

“I am just tired from the work. I would like respite, and to spend it with you. Uninterrupted.” He leans over the table, and tops up Krolia's drink without a word.

“Well, we don't need to be here.” There is a gleam in her eye that he's not used to seeing,

“That is true. There is the observation deck, or we could see Keith if you would prefer?” Kolivan arches an eyebrow at her small giggle. Krolia and giggling were two things he did not consider together. “I feel I am missing something I should not be.”

“Finish your drink, Kolivan.” She answers, but that gleam doesn't leave her eye.

Kolivan lets her lead him back to their room, and while he is quite looking forward to the prospect of sleep, he's certain that when Krolia pushes him up against the just-closed door, and her lips find his, tongue slipping through his defences, sleep is not quite on the agenda. It's then he realises what she means, but to his own defence, sex had been a rarity between them both. It wasn't that Kolivan didn't enjoy her touch, and he certainly was _quite_ enjoying where her hands roamed, it was just something that simply didn't happen frequently. He wonders, as the kiss breaks, if he has been neglectful of her needs.

“H-Have I been ignorant of your needs?” Kolivan can taste the sweet liquor from her lips on his own.

“No.” She kisses him again, and he groans against her mouth as her finger stroke between his legs. “I just think this is something we both need from time-to-time. It has been a while, after all.” Krolia whispers against his lips. “Yet if you are concerned, I can just...” her fingers stop their stroking, and that glean seems brighter as she steps back. If Kolivan could blush, he likely would. For every step forward, she takes one back, until Krolia bumps against the frame of the bed. She drops with another giggle, and reclines back one a single arm. The free one busies itself freeing the wrap. Kolivan places a knee between her legs, and as she draws her hand away, he pushes down the wrap. Despite the body suit in the way, she is brilliant and radiant in her beauty. Kolivan kisses her as he pushes himself fully to the bed. He feels Krolia's hands make short work of his body suit between the muffled gasps.

It's no surprise that she flips Kolivan to the sheets below, and as she fumbles with her arm guard, Krolia grinds against his concealed cock. Kolivan matches her rhythm, mouth barely open. He is a generous lover once he gets into it, and incredibly patient. He can occasionally be tortuously slow with foreplay, but Krolia can't complain. Kolivan pushes himself up and steals a kiss from her. Hands roam, claws fiddle, and soon find flesh and fur beneath the body suits. They're tugged away with need and boots are toed from and kicked to the floor with dull thuds. Kolivan holds her tight, and rolls her back over into the sheets with a small growl. His large hands move; one to her breast, and the other slips between the folds between parted thighs. Kolivan teases Krolia, and she can't reach his braid, or what sits between his own legs. That lop-sided grin is on his face, and as the calloused hands move, they take Krolia by the hips. She tosses her head back sharply when she feels his tongue between the folds, and she curses him for not allowing her to squeeze his head between her thighs.

-

Kolivan snores lightly, his arm wrapped tightly around Krolia's bare stomach. She can feel a heat against her ass cheeks, and is half-tempted to rouse Kolivan from his sleep, especially after last night. Krolia takes his hand in her own, affectionately stroking it. Moments like these were ones a younger Krolia dreamed of deca-phoebs ago, and now this was her reality. It's early by the ships time, and Krolia is sure she can get a few more vargas of sleep if she wills it. With the other arm, she slowly traces her fingers over Kolivan's fur and muscle. She will admit, it's nice to have a partner who can hold and fuck her all at once stood up. Krolia shuffles back closer into Kolivan's body, feeling the hot press of his length grow warmer. Perhaps later, she thinks.

* * *

When they return to the base, Kolivan and Krolia are surprised to find three new Galra waiting for them, and it's three that are quite infamous. They are Lotor's old Generals. Krolia has told him of Acxa, while the other two are Ezor and Zethrid. Both of which took Krolia prisoner for a short while. It will be on her decision whether she lets them join. Before Kolivan opens his mouth, it's the largest of the group that speaks.

“I'm sorry.” Zethrid looks directly at Krolia as she pulls Ezor a bit closer. “We're sorry. For capturing you, and then almost killing your son. I realised,” she glances down at Ezor with her single eye, “what type of monster I could become. Ezor and Acxa helped me realise, and after Lotor, after what else we've done, I've worked out destruction's not worth it. It's tiring, it's over.”

“Why is it you wish to join us?” Krolia can accept Acxa, but Ezor and Zethrid she's stuck on. She wondered whether Keith would be able to forgive Zethrid for what she'd done, and while part of her understood the desire to protect a mate, and _she_ would kill to protect hers, Keith was still her son, and she would and had killed to protect him. Trugg may have been indirect, but she allowed that beast to be released, which Keith had also killed. Perhaps she would leave it between them to fix between themselves. They needed members, after all, and to at least have Lotor's ex-Generals on-side would help. They were a better help here where they could be observed.

“We want to give back and try and undo what we've done and been part of, even if we didn't agree with it.” Ezor pipes up. “We really didn't realise that was what Lotor planned. I mean, after he killed Narti,” she looks to the others, then back, “we were going to turn him in. I mean call us opportunists, but you guys get it, what half-Galra go through. I mean, your ranks had plenty.” Krolia glances at Kolivan, and suspects he's thinking about Antok. “Is it wrong to want a second chance?”

“It's not wrong to want a second chance, but I need to talk to Kolivan first. It will also depend on whether you pass your trials; whether the blades accept you. You know that you would be working with Keith, yes?”

“We're aware.” Zethrid replies as she rubs her burnt cheek. “We just want to start over, like Ezor says, and we think that with what you do, we could be of use to give back.”

“Let us talk, and we will come back to you in due course. For now,” Kolivan says, “you are free to look around.” He motions for Krolia to follow him, and the pair exit and move towards one of the meeting rooms. Once inside, he turns to her. “Can you trust them?”

“Acxa I do. She's helped us in the past. Her and Keith have had each other's backs previously.” Kolivan nods his head slowly. He recalls seeing her on the Atlas previously with one of the other humans, and a few times with the other Paladins. “The other two,” Krolia pauses, then sighs, “I want to give them another chance, but I don't know whether they can all put what happened behind them. I don't know the full extent of what happened, except that Zethird thought her mate dead.”

“If there was issues with the Paladins, and them,” Kolivan settles on a desk, “do you think the group would really be free?” It's a point he's not sure she's considered, and unsure if this is her motherly instinct at play. “We could trial them, and until they're ready, keep oversight on them. Just like we would previously. If all else, you can contact Keith and see what he thinks.”

“What would you do?” Krolia asks. Kolivan wants to say he would've previously locked them up and interrogated them to make sure they were trustworthy, but that was from the deca-phoebs of deep-rooted paranoia.

“I would let them prove themselves. I will let you decide; you have more history with them than I. However, I will say that if they hurt you, or Keith.” His hand drifts to the hilt of his sword. Krolia understands the unspoken threat, and nods her head.

“I will contact Keith. Afterwards, I think we need to pick their minds about Honerva.”

* * *

With everything Honerva has done in recent movements, Kolivan placed the order that everyone return to base. It was dangerous out there now, and while the Paladins and Atlas crew had managed to get through to the Alteans they had on board, Honerva's influence on them was still questionable. Then there was her plans that had Kolivan concerned. For now, the Blade of Marmora were focused upon one thing, and that was trying to organise the rest of the Galra with Lahn, as well as other members of the Coalition. What ships and technology they had were being moved to key locations across the universe in fear of an imminent attack. Even Tarak and Varaz weren't their chipper selves as of late. So when Ezor and Nita decided to try lighten the mood, it was well-received, even for Kolivan. The ex-Generals sit with them in the living space, and between the good food and alcohol, and perhaps quite trivial games that Kolivan pretends is a chore to engage in, it is a refreshing experience. Despite her awkwardness, even Acxa is attempting to enjoy herself. Kolivan smirks into his drink as Krolia beats Ezor in an arm wrestle. The little 'tournament' has been dominated by the women, and now it is her and Zethrid left. A flashing light from his data pad catches his eye, and Kolivan is torn about checking the news. He really should.

Kolivan instantly regrets the decision. The Paladins have worked out where Honerva is.

* * *

Krolia keeps telling herself it will be fine. She keeps telling herself Keith will be fine; he has Shiro, they have Voltron and the Atlas, and the others. He'll be fine. Of course. It's just against Honerva, a ten thousand deca-phoeb old Altean alchemist who just wants the universe to crumble because of the mistakes she and Zarkon made all that time ago. She paces, frantic. Even Kolivan can't calm her down, but he's at least near. That's all she can cope with. Just him near is enough to stop her from taking whatever ship they have and trying to get to the battlefield, but at the same time, she wants to go, even though there is nothing she can feasibly do.

“Krolia.” There's a heavy weight around her stomach. Kolivan rests his chin upon her shoulder, the fur of his ears tickling her skin. “Trust him; trust them.”

“I do...I just...I feel-”

“Powerless. That despite your capabilities, all you can do is wait and watch, unable to do a thing?” Krolia feels his arms tighten. “I may not have a child of my own, but I can understand your position.” Krolia knows this refers to the torture. It all feels like deca-phoebs ago now, but that isn't true. Her body slumps in his arms, but Kolivan is there to hold her tight. “They will succeed. We will see Keith again-”

From beyond the vista window of the base, there is something like a flash, a _tear_. Both stumble over, pressing their hands against the glass. In horror they watch as more fractured lines of light draw across the blackness of space. It feels like everything is shaking, even down to the atomic level. Kolivan thought he knew fear, but this was beyond it. He didn't understand what this was, but judging by Krolia's expression, and how she sinks to her knees, she does. Kolivan drops at her side, and pulls her in close and tight as incoherent noise leaves her mouth. The shaking and flashes continue, and in a painfully slow way, Krolia turns her head to him. She's crying.

“She's won. Kolivan, she's-”

“They'll find a way!” Kolivan can't see her like this, and he doesn't know what to do or how to comfort the woman he loves. “I don't know how! But like you, and like always, they'll find a way!” The both snap their heads to a light that bleeds through the vista window, and it is so bright that it burns his retinas.

-

Krolia doesn't know why they're on the floor. Or why she can't remember anything. She feels disorientated as she looks around, but nothing seems strange or out of place.

“D-Do you remember?” She blinks at Kolivan; who she feels she hasn't seen in an eternity, but also not so long ago. Kolivan seems to take a few ticks to register her words. He frowns and shakes his head.

“I recall a light that burned. That is all.” He groggily rubs his eyes. Krolia _thinks_ she remembers a bright light. “I feel strange.” Without a word, they move into each others space and just hold each other tightly. “I felt I was without you, but not.”

“Same.” She grips his arm tighter. “I don't understand.”

“I do not either but,” Kolivan swallows and his voice sounds rough, “I do not like the concept of you ripped from me like that. I do not like the uncertainty.” Krolia finds herself nuzzling against his cheek, because she needs to _feel_ something. In silence they embrace each other. Perhaps they will remember in time, but there is something primal on a level Krolia can't explain. Something _had_ happened, but she didn't know what, but it must have been bad.

* * *

It was one thing to learn that Honerva had destroyed the universe.

It was another to learn it was restored.

But the thing that renders Kolivan speechless is the fact Daibazaal has returned, along with Altea...and numerous others long-destroyed by the Galra.

The price was Honerva's life, the Lions, and the Atlas, which Kolivan feels is a fair payment for what was restored. Perhaps it is slightly unbalanced, as Allura states she used a good portion of her own powers as well to restore the other universes alongside Honerva, but then her price was the loss of her Altean abilities. Kolivan ponders over what that could mean in the future, but the future can wait. Now, in the present, Krolia stands at his side, along with Keith and Kosmo. They stand on Feyiv, at the Kral Zera, and as Kolivan listens to Keith speak, he knows this man will one quintant be asked to lead the Galra. Keith was already anxious of leading the Blade of Marmora, but perhaps in time, his mind would change with age and experience like it had before.

Kolivan glances at Krolia. The pride is within her eyes. Like himself, she has agreed to step away from her duties with the Blade to focus on their people. There is support from Lahn and others they've helped along the way, even Zarkon's old advisor, Gnov, has been in contact. After losing Central Command and going into hiding, it appears the time has changed her. The time has changed many of them.

There is a thunderous roar beneath them as Keith finishes his speech, and Krolia feels the pride swell within her gut. Never before did she imagine this life for Keith, but here he was, and she could not be prouder. She walks to Kolivan's side, and takes his hand in hers.

“Keith has come a long way.” Kolivan mutters in her ear. “I believe we could be looking at the next Galra Emperor, if he ever wished to undertake the role.”

“That I don't know about.” She squeezes his hand. “I'm also honoured, that you asked him to lead in your stead.”

“He is the only one with experience, but,” and Kolivan smiles at her, then looks to Keith, “I trust his judgement. There is no one better in my mind than him, and I think after all the war, and battles, Keith can do what he does best. Helping others.” Kolivan understands Keith, and she is grateful for that, even if he can be a bit distant, there is still love there underneath all the repression. It is still taking time for them both to undo deca-phoebs of damage, but Krolia thinks they're slowly getting there a quintant at a time.

“I think you will be a fine mate.” Krolia rests her head against his shoulder. She hears the small rumble in his throat, and feels him lean against her.

“On New Daibazaal, I can indulge you in the lost courting rituals.” Kolivan scratches the back of his head. “You can feel the sands beneath your feet.”

“I'd like that,” Krolia watches Keith mingle with the other Galra, and looks back up to Kolivan, “I'd like that a lot.” Keith would be fine, and he was going to go places in life. She would always be there for her son, but now, maybe, it was time she allowed herself some time to indulge with Kolivan.

* * *

The phoebs have flown by so quickly. Between Galra returning to the home world, to building infrastructure, to a new Empress who rules with a council to keep them in check at the request of the entire Galactic Coalition, to Shiro and Keith's wedding, being representatives for the Galra had meant both the pair had little time left in the quintant. It was much like before; taxing, but rewarding work. While there was a recess, and Keith was out on a mission with the others fighting off space pirate attacks against an old mining planet, Kolivan had decided he was going to take his mate-to-be on one of the oldest courting traditions he could think of: the Mate's Hunt. Galran tradition has always been a bloody affair; but the act of finding a strong quarry that requires you to work together in sync, that you would skin, cook, and consume together, always felt quite intimate an act. They had spoken hypothetically, and Krolia had no qualms with it. It also meant Kolivan could take her to the ancient Marmoran hunting grounds, which he was rather excited about, because they still existed on the recovered planet.

Krolia listens intently to the passionate way Kolivan speaks about the grounds they step upon. It's the way he points out structures that Krolia would never of thought of could have meaning, but as she stares at the rocks, she can see they are carved, and these are pillars. When she looks closer, she wonders if this was the precursor for modern-quintant architecture.

“Come.” Kolivan sounds _energised_ as he strides off, and she's never seen him like this. Maybe it's the fresh air, or the fact they're planet-side which is making the difference. Krolia jogs off after him, and stops as they look down across rolling grassy plains. “Before the decay of our planet, that Zarkon was initially attempting to fix,” Kolivan gestures with a grin, “this is what Daibazaal used to look like. There was more greenery, despite the sheer amount of desert and rocky terrain. We had some surface water, but as you now know, much lies beneath the surface.” Krolia stares out across the landscape. They are far from the major settlements, and it is peaceful. Aside from living with Tex, she has not known peace like this.

“It is beautiful.” Krolia whispers. “In all my deca-phoebs, I never thought I would feel this at peace.”

“Nor I.” Kolivan shifts from foot to foot. “I am happy that you enjoy this; honoured that it is you I share this with. I cannot think of anyone else I would wish to. May I?” Krolia hums, and leans into Kolivan's kiss. She drapes her arms over his shoulders, and his hands find her hips.

“You do not always need to ask.” She brushes her nose against his. A rich laugh spills from Kolivan's lips.

“No,” he half-smiles, “I know. I just, after everything that has happened, there are still times I hesitate, and then I think what if I lose you again, or what if something happens to you or Keith?” Krolia's heart tenses, because she can tell there is much love there buried inside. She pulls Kolivan in for another kiss. It is slow, and probing, and she takes her time. As they break, she looks into those eyes that, despite their tiredness, still shine under the red Daibazaal skies. They have been through much together, and Kolivan at first was always there for her, and then she was there for him, and now; they were there for each other. Krolia knows that she has found herself a good mate, and she can't imagine a life without this awkward man who plants a kiss against her forehead.

“I love you, Kolivan. I cannot imagine my life without you in it, and I look forward to spending every quintant with you.” Krolia moves her hands over his shoulders and along his arms, more muscular now he had recovered mostly. He had his odd nightmares, but it was to be expected. Kolivan closes his eyes, and presses his forehead against hers.

“I love you too.”

* * *

Keith leans against Shiro's shoulder as he watches Tarak and Varaz put on quite the sword fight for his mom and stepdad. Acxa and Veronica sit to his left, and Ezor and Zethrid to Shiro's right. Allura and Lance have come with a small Altean entourage to the event, and a few dignitaries Shiro knows from work are here too. It's a mateship ritual, which Keith is pretty sure is just a fancy way of saying wedding. He's happy the others have come, and that Hunk's distracted Nita with his cooking, so hopefully she'll have a crush on Hunk now. It was cute, kind of, but he didn't want to get annoyed at her today. Hunk always had his back, Keith just owed him probably for his patience.

“How was Kolivan earlier?” Keith toys with Shiro's hand.

“Oh, nervous. I've never seen the guy stress that much. I think at one point he was convinced you would step in and tell Krolia you didn't want her to become his mate.”

“Wow. He was that worried?” Shiro hums a response and nods his head. The pair look at the mated couple sat on a pile of incredibly large cushions, an intricate fabric tie connecting their wrists. It was strange seeing them both dressed so differently; Keith was used to his mom in armour, and Kolivan always in the wrap. Then again, now Keith wore the same type, he could see why. It was _actually_ ridiculously comfortable.

“I'm really happy for them both.” Keith says. “If it wasn't for mom, I think I would've been too...hesitant on asking you.”

“I think Kolivan was trying to say the same thing to me,” Shiro takes his drink, “but I wonder if helping us was a way to help them?”

“I think maybe it was.”

“We were test subjects. And no, I promise I'm not making a joke about the labs again.” Keith sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You knew what you were marrying.” Shiro nudges Keith in the ribs, and he can't help the little chuckle that escapes his lips. He did. “Seriously, though,” and Shiro's disposition changes as he pulls Keith against him, playing with the pony tail, “I'm happy you've got a family; one that you've deserved.” Keith hears the softness and sincerity in Shiro's voice. He has got a family, and while it's still strange to see Kolivan and his mom so at peace with each other and showing affection, he's proud, maybe, that she's allowed herself happiness, and so has Kolivan. “They look at peace, and I think they deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Keith smiles and waves at his mom as she looks over, “they really do.”

Krolia brushes a hand over her stomach.

“Was there something wrong with the food?” Kolivan shuffles over the cushions, and places his hand on top of her stomach.

“No, but perhaps I have eaten too much?”

“No more than usual.” Kolivan rubs small circles against the material. “You look breath-taking.”

“You looked the happiest I think I have ever seen you.” Krolia leans in, and plants a kiss against her mate's lips. After the ceremony here, they'll be off to 'seal the deal', as Lance put it, before Allura elbowed her Prince Consort quite painfully in the ribs it seemed. They would exchange mating bites, and then, it would be official for the universe to see. Krolia lets Kolivan pull her against his broad chest, and rests his hand over hers across her stomach. It has been a feeling she recognises, but from such a long time ago. She smiles over at Keith, and for a tick, is comforted in the knowledge she now has everything she needs. She will always love Tex, but she loves Kolivan just as much. She watches as Nita pulls Ezor up in front of them, and they ready their ceremonial blades. Krolia's mind thinks of the past members, and how everything they've done has brought them to this moment. The candle ceremony that Keith and Shiro started for Ulaz, Thace, and the others, has now been incorporated into an annual event to remember the fallen, and one that was due soon. It's good to see how the Blade of Marmora has changed, and as Kolivan squeezes her hand, she's proud of the new, young blood that has taken the mantle.

Krolia wonders for just a tick, whether or not the strange feeling may be an indication that there may be some more young blood on the horizon. Kolivan has proven he is a good father-figure. Krolia admires her mates face, and wonders again, just for a tick, what exactly a child between them would look like. Well, that was _if_ she was. No point getting ahead of herself just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I should be able to edit Day 2 after work tonight and get that ready. This week I'm quite busy at work, so some days may get missed, sadly.
> 
> I only tagged as minor character death since, while they are major, I have followed s8's general timeline so they would have 'died' even though they didn't stay perma-dead.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think, so drop a comment below!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
